A Distraction
by rochvymetal
Summary: Set after Caged Heat - Crowley's on lockdown, and he's bored.  Thankfully he's got a demon who dared to stand against him to keep him entertained.  Unfortunately for Crowley, Castiel is intent on spoiling his fun. Spoilers til end of Season 6.


_**So, this is my first stab at fanfiction. I've played around with ideas a little bit, and written a few things down, but this is my first actual public writing. So this means two things: first off, I'm new, and that means I'm going to mess up. Secondly, it means I can use advice from wise fanfiction sages that are the constant readers and prolific writers of this site. So let me know what I can do better, please. Just don't be an ass about it. Okie dokie?**_

_**Moving on, this story is written after Caged Heat, but has spoilers for basically the rest of Season 6, so don't read if you don't wanna know.**_

_**Obviously, the show and its characters aren't mine, or every episode would be chock full of Crowley. This story ("A Distraction") is my own.  
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><p>Crowley was positively livid.<p>

It wasn't enough that he was on lockdown at Castiel's request. It wasn't simply that he had to let the Winchesters go. It was that he knew that whore Meg was out there, still topside, because the angel had thought the best way to keep Dean and the Yeti from figuring out about the plan to break into purgatory was by faking Crowley's death.

Crowley was the King of bloody Hell, and here he was, hiding under a rock like a salamander yet again because of those infuriating Winchesters. He paced up and down the confines of his new dwellings, an old pharmaceutical lab on the edge of a small town - he neither knew nor cared to know the name of the place – in Kansas, furious at his confinement. After fifteen minutes or so, Crowley stopped pacing since it wasn't calming him down, and decided instead to survey the creatures Castiel transferred from Crowley's old prison to the lab. After some thought the demon picked out a djinn he knew was quite a screamer during torture, and set to work in the hopes of calming his frayed nerves.

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><p>He put down his scalpel a few hours after he began, bored, listless, furious, and getting nowhere with the torture. The screams of "No, please stop!" and "I don't know anything I swear!" – usually music to his ears – meant nothing to him when he was in this kind of mood. Just knowing that bitch of a demon Meg was out there, probably relishing in her supposed besting of the King of Hell, made his skin crawl and overshadowed any joy he got from watching the supernatural creature chained to the table beneath weep and squirm as Crowley cut designs into the flesh of the djinn's collarbone.<p>

"You bastard," Crowley remarked to the djinn. "This is quite embarrassing. Seems I'm unable to finish." With a smirk and the snap of his fingers the djinn became chained to a wall at the other end of the building and Crowley once again had nothing to do.

Castiel appeared as Crowley was starting to think of having another conversation with the djinn, just to stave off the boredom of sitting in the lab alone. "You seem stressed Crowley," Castiel remarked.

Crowley stood and approached the angel with a scowl that would terrify most creatures of hell and earth. "Stressed? Of course I'm bloody stressed! This morning, that sad excuse for a demon Meg was on my operating table, the Winchesters were set to die, and I was closer than ever to opening purgatory. But your love for those brothers sent it all to hell and tonight I'm playing hide-and-seek with two knuckle-dragging monkeys in an Impala!"

The angel returned Crowley's scowl with a patented Castiel glare. "They are not to be touched."

"You've made that abundantly clear," Crowley replied with a growl.

Castiel continued to glare at Crowley, but then suddenly looked thoughtful. "However, I will offer no protection for the demon."

Crowley smirked. This day might finally provide some fun.

"Carelessness will not be an option if you pursue her." Castiel cautioned. "If she escapes, she will warn the Winchesters that your demise was not as it appeared to be, and today will be for not. Additionally I will be exposed, and our planned opening of purgatory will certainly be delayed."

"Don't worry," Crowley replied, frustrated with the obviousness of the angel's warning but not wanting to call out Castiel on being a prat in case the angel changed his mind on allowing him to hunt down the bitch. He didn't want Castiel to decide to be spiteful and protect Meg by taking the demon under his wing, so to speak. "I'm a professional. She won't escape, cross my heart and all that."

"Do what is necessary," Castiel said, then sighed. "It is unfortunate though. She is quite attractive for a demon, and her lips were surprisingly pleasing."

Crowley began to gather some supplies for his trip to find Meg. "Guess I should leave now before the little insect gets away." The demon suddenly balked as Castiel's words sunk in. "Hold on mate… you snogged a demon?"

Castiel looked confused. "I had to see if it was as enjoyable as the pizza guy made it out to be."

Crowley tossed his hands up in the air. "Not even going to ask." Crowley could not understand what was going on, nor did he really want to. The only thing he had any interest in was seeing the look on Meg's face when she realized that he was still alive. Well, that, and seeing the look on her face during torture. "Be back in time for dinner luv."

"I do not understand. You do not need to eat, and I had not planned on having any meal prepared."

Crowley shook his head. "Look up what a figure of speech is while I'm gone. If you're the only contact I'm going to have until we open purgatory, you need to at least be entertaining." Damn angels. Crowley didn't like any sort of angel, but angels with their grace were terrible. Fallen angels at least didn't walk around like they had two meters of stick up their arses and actually had a sense of humor. Intact angels were such a bore.

But none of that mattered now. He had a demon to hunt, a new set of knives he was anxious to bloody, and his eyes on a lying, deceiving bitch of hell whose abdomen he was going to scoop out and carve like a pumpkin. Oh yes, today might not turn out that terrible after all.

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><p>Meg hadn't seen him coming, which was a bit of a disappointment if he was being completely honest. Although he did quite enjoy the sound the crowbar made as it collided with the back of her skull – surprisingly satisfactory.<p>

As he transported her back to his prison and began to set her up for the fun he would have when she awoke, he reflected on his hunt for the bitch; about how he followed her trail to a house where she massacred a family while they slept, then to a bar where she screwed some bloke in the alleyway behind the place then killed him after (the man's body smelled of sex and whore), and then finally catching up with her at a hotel room where she was torturing an old man for fun. He had hit her with his trusty crowbar, the one he had bludgeoned Brady with as a matter of fact, as she cut the throat of the victim. Shame too. He had wanted in on the action. No matter. He would be occupied with a much better game now.

He heard her stir behind him, and turned. "Welcome to Hotel Crowley!" He giddily intoned while gesturing at the room around him. "We've had a bit of change of location seeing as our last place had an insect infestation." He smirked at her, and was pleased to see her cringe away. "No worries though luv. Our staff is just as dedicated as they were before, and our kitchen remains tops." Crowley reached over to a table of tools he had set at Meg's head, and grabbed a serrated knife. "Our head chef has just purchased some new cutting implements that are certain to improve the quality of his fillets." He dug the new blade into her sternum and heard her gasp as his tone took on a much darker air. "We meet again whore."

"Crowley?" she asked, confused. Delightful.

"Your intellect astounds, as always." Crowley began to sift through his torture implements, trying to decide which to use next. "Like my vanishing act?" he asked as he set down a particularly nasty curved knife and began testing the weight of a scalpel. "Though the look of smug satisfaction on your face while I disappeared was tiresome to be sure." He set down the scalpel, unsatisfied. "Decisions, decisions." He sighed. "Just going to have to try them all."

"I'm a student of Alastair," Meg said, proud and confident despite being naked and restrained on Crowley's operating table. Crowley found her smugness maddening. "You can't do anything that will hurt me."

"Oh, I disagree." Crowley decided on the curved knife – it wasn't perfect, but he had plenty of time to figure out what was. "You planned on killing me, and the only reason you didn't plunge that poker of the Winchester's in my heart is cause you were outsmarted by an angel in a trenchcoat. Frankly, that pissed me off. And darling, you may have endured your fair share of torture before, but I doubt you've seen anything like the King of Hell scorned." Crowley plunged the curved blade into Meg's thigh and pulled it towards him, bringing muscle and skin away from the bone as he pulled back, causing Meg to scream in agony. "You said once that the best torturers don't get their hands dirty. 'Friad you're wrong there. The best are hands-on." He removed the blade with a squelch, then sunk his hand into her torn flesh with a smile. "Really adds a personal touch," he said as he tore a tendon apart with his bare fingers, receiving a wail from the demon in agony beneath his hands for his troubles. "And I plan on getting quite, quite personal."

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><p>He hated when his victims passed out. It was always at the most inopportune times, and really, he had finally just hit his stride. Oh well; it's not like he begrudged the rest. He had been for it for hours and hours, and he was that kind of giddy exhausted one reaches after having particularly satisfying sex, although he himself had never felt this way after intercourse.<p>

Sex really never had an appeal to the demon. It's true, he had sold his soul for three more inches of naughty bits, but after that deal had come due and he had endured years and years of torture, he had little interest in the act that had gotten him sent to Hell. Sure, he had slept with Lilith, but he certainly had no desire to do so. It was business, and sometimes to get ahead one has to get a little behind. Literally.

Lilith was always one of the most lustful demons out there, and Crowley certainly had played that to his advantage to gain her trust and access to the Colt. He pretended to actually want her, and she had fallen for it and had taken him to her bedroom time and time again. He knew that to her sex was an act of domination, and although she made out to humiliate him and degrade him he would always finish satisfied that he was playing her when she thought she was besting him. And he_ had_ won: Lilith was dead, and although the plan with the Colt hadn't gone as hoped he at least had tricked her into handing it over to him. And Lucifer did die eventually, although not until he had been a royal pain in Crowley's lily-white arse. But that was in the past. Now he was King.

No, sex was worthless to him. But the high from torture, well, that's something he lusted after. The smell of cooked flesh, the sounds of agonized screams, the helplessness of his victim – that's what flicked his Bic. Was that the expression? He honestly couldn't remember, but he thought he was right. One of those bloody Winchesters had used it once, and it had crawled into his skull and got stuck there.

The Winchesters. Why couldn't he just kill them? It would be SO much easier. But no, that trench-coated winged prat had to have an angel hard-on for Dean friggin' Winchester, making touching either of them impossible. Oh, what he wouldn't give to have Dean or that giraffe on his cutting board. He almost moaned with the arousal of that simple thought.

Oh well. He wasn't without entertainment. And although he was getting tired of waiting around for the show to start, he could fix that.

He grabbed a bottle of holy water with his gloved hands and splashed it on Meg's face. She awoke startled and screaming, a sound that made his blood rush to his waist and his body tingle with excitement.

"Morning luv. Hope that you slept well." He grabbed a tiny, electric saw off a table, turned it on as she was shaking her head to splash off the burning water. He headed towards the exhausted but struggling demon strapped down in front of him with the saw, his lips turning up into a delighted smirk. "I've a bone to pick with you Meg." He brought the saw near Meg's shivering leg. "And I pick femur." He chuckled lightly at his own bad joke as he brought the saw into her left thigh, but his laughter was soon drowned out by the sound of her agonized screams.

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><p>Castiel hadn't heard from Crowley in days, which was frankly a bit confusing. At Crowley's last prison the demon had called Castiel multiple times a day to talk, something which Castiel always found infuriating. The angel was quite occupied with the war in heaven and his continued deception of the Winchesters, and he certainly did not have time to listen to Crowley talk about how he desired sticking a hot poker "up the arse of that bloody Robert Pattinson." Castiel was not aware of who that was, but apparently he was "the worst thing to happen to acting since Nicholas Cage" and this infuriated Crowley for some reason. Most everything that Crowley said confused Castiel including his rants on Nicholas Cage, who Castiel had no knowledge of. Crowley seemed not to care that Castiel did not know most of the things that the demon talked about, but he did seem to enjoy having the angel listen to him without comment. Which was why the three-day absence of Crowley was disconcerting.<p>

Castiel was decided. He was going to visit the demon and discern what had happened to the King of Hell.

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><p>Crowley was in the middle of scooping out Meg's spleen when Castiel popped into his workshop.<p>

"Hold your horses for one minute if you would angel. I'm working."

"Crowley, I do not have any horses with me. Why are you talking about equines?"

Crowley finished scooping out Meg's spleen then turned, frustrated. "Didn't you look up what a figure of speech was last time?" Castiel shook his head. "Of course you didn't." Crowley sighed, and turned towards Meg, who he had gagged today. He always liked to hear his victims scream, but earlier she had wailed so loudly when he poured salt into her chest cavity that she had given him a migraine. He had passed the last few hours digging out her internal organs in relative quiet.

"Stay! Good bitch." He rounded on Castiel. "What in the bloody hell do you want? Can't you see I've got my hands full?"

"Yes, I see that your hands are currently filled. Is that a spleen you're holding?"

Crowley looked down to see that he was, in fact, still holding Meg's spleen. "Imagine that. It wasn't a figure of speech after all."

Castiel frowned. "I don't unders..."

"Understand. Gotcha." Crowley sighed. He really was not enjoying being interrupted, especially by an angel that had no clue what an idiom was. "Never mind. What do you want?"

"You have not called in a couple days. I was concerned. I came here to check to make sure that you were still alive."

"I'm fine. We done?" Crowley turned around to begin to try and remove his victim's pancreas.

"We are not finished yet demon. Why have you not called for me in three days?"

Crowley was incredibly confused. Usually he called the angel because he was bored and seeing Castiel look completely confused at basically anything Crowley talked about usually gave the demon some enjoyment. "Wait, what?"

"You have not requested my presence in days. It is unusual."

"You hate it when I call you," Crowley replied.

"That is correct. But you do it anyways."

Crowley smiled. He certainly did. "And your point is…?"

"It is unusual."

It was like pulling teeth talking to this winged bastard. Pulling teeth…hey, that might be some fun. He'd have to write that on his torture to-do list for Meg. A to-do list this ridiculous angel was keeping him from.

"We've established it's unusual," Crowley sighed. "I've been busy. Like I am now. Don't you have the Winchesters to coddle? Or heaven to fight against? Or, well, basically anywhere in the cosmos that isn't here to be right now? I'm working." Crowley turned around, hoping that if he started in on torturing Meg again the angel would leave.

Instead of leaving, Castiel walked to the other side of the table and broke Crowley's concentration just as he tried to separate the pancreas from Meg's abdominal cavity. The angel looked interested, confused, and like he wasn't planning on leaving. Crowley looked up at the angel with a glare. "Bloody hell. What?"

"You are distracted."

"Of course I'm distracted! You're in the way!"

Castiel stared intensely at Crowley in a judgmental way that always infuriated the demon. "I do not mean currently. You are distracted from the mission at hand." The angel gestured around the factory. "Have you received any new information from the creatures at your disposal here? Or have you spent your week wasting precious time on this," Castiel pointed at Meg "thing. I do not know if it still qualifies as a woman with all you have done to the flesh."

Crowley was beginning to grow angry, and the tone of his voice was starting to show his ire. "You know just as well as I do that these morons here know nothing. We need something bigger than what we have, someone stronger than a handful of creatures and two Alphas. This," he gestured towards Meg, "is not a distraction. This is the only bloody thing on the docket."

Castiel didn't look like he was going to let up. "You will not know whether or not these creatures have information to offer unless you try."

"Thanks for the pep talk mate, but I know what I'm doing. And when I say these things are more useless than you around a woman I bloody mean it! If you hadn't put me on lockdown and let me kill leather-jacket and Sasquatch I could be out there looking for how to get into purgatory. But you had to go all noble and save the Winchesters, so now I'm here hiding from those flannel-wearing terrors with no one for company but this bitch, some nasties, and a pompous, self-righteous winged dick!" Crowley was shaking he was so furious, but Castiel looked undisturbed by the demon's ire, making Crowley even more angry. "So how about you shove off and leave me the hell alone? Come back when you have something for me. Until then, how I decide to occupy my time is none of your BLOODY BUSINESS!"

Crowley had been expecting a response from Castiel, or maybe a punch in the face if the angel had finally grown some balls in the past few days. The last thing he expected was to be thrown across the room into the wall, so Crowley was a bit surprised when that's how the angel reacted to Crowley's tirade.

"This obsession of yours has to end. I will end it." Castiel reached down towards Meg's head, and Crowley knew what the angel was going to do. He had to stop Castiel before he ruined everything.

Cursing, Crowley transported himself across the room and aimed a punch at Castiel's face. A wave of force emanated from the holy vessel just as Crowley's hit was about to connect, and he was sent across the room and onto his back.

"Don't you dare!" Crowley growled. He tried to transport across the room, but he was blocked somehow – he couldn't even move. "Cas! Stop! CASTIEL!"

But it was too late. Crowley's struggles and screams could not stop the angel, and with a flash of light Meg's vessel went limp. The demon was dead.

Crowley still couldn't move, but he sure as hell could scream. "You prat! You had no right to do that! When I get up from here I'll…"

Castiel was beside him in an instant, and his hand covered Crowley's mouth while the demon was screaming, halting the demon's angry shouts. "When you get up from the floor, you will clean up the mess on that table, find a creature here, and you will ask them the questions you should have asked them days ago. I was wrong to allow you this distraction. I will not make a mistake like this again. Remain focused, and this 'partnership' of ours will soon be dissolved, and once it is you can torture, maim, and murder who you desire. But until then, you WILL listen to me. You will leave the Winchesters alone, you will stay hidden, you will do the job that is required of you, and you will look for how to get into purgatory from here."

Crowley felt the pressure on his body release, and he stood. He would never admit to anyone that the angel had shaken him, but he inwardly was cowed by the strength of the magic the celestial being had used on him. He had a lot of power as the King of Hell, but even with all the mojo he had he hadn't been able to break the hold Castiel put on him. He would have to listen to what the blasted angel said, for now at least.

The demon stood up, and dusted off his suit jacket and his torture apron. He stood as tall as he could, looked into Castiel's bright blue eyes, and simply said "Up yours mate." With a turn he headed back to the table where Meg's body lay, and with a snap the corpse and all the mess from it disappeared.

He heard the whoosh of the angel's jacket behind him and knew that Castiel had left. Part of Crowley wanted to just sit there and do nothing out of spite, but he knew that the angel would return and he really didn't want to be pinned down again. Crowley sighed and ran his hand through his thinning dark-brown hair. He decided it would probably just be best to get down to business, no matter how much he loathed being ordered around.

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><p>The djinn had been recovering from his wounds for days. The chains that held him to the wall were digging into his wrists, he was thirsty and starving, but that demon bastard had left him alone since he had stopped cutting into him the other day, so he could at least be thankful for that.<p>

He was startled out of his doze by the movement of air in front of his face, and his eyes flew open as his demon captor grabbed his throat. "Darling, it's so good to see you again." A scream escaped from the djinn, but the demon silenced it by applying more pressure on the creature's throat. "Tsk tsk love. You can't waste your voice now – I'm planning on finishing this time." And with a movement of air and a clanking of chains, both the demon and djinn were gone.

A few minutes later, the djinn's screams of "No, don't, no!" reverberated throughout the pharmaceutical lab. And if any of the chained supes that were quivering in terror around the place bothered to listen, they could have heard an angry Scottish man bitching about worthless creatures and angels that were prats. But none of them did. They were too afraid he would come after them next.

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><p><em><strong>Thoughts? I'd love to hear 'em. I've caught the fanfic bug and I'm thinking of writing a CrowleyCastiel slash soon, so any advice would be lovely. **_

_**You all are wonderful. Thanks for reading.**_


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